


the art of scraping through

by faikitty



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Men Crying, Scars, or would be if not for..... stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 17:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18627481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faikitty/pseuds/faikitty
Summary: Kurogane has a lot of scars.





	the art of scraping through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catiacchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catiacchi/gifts).



> has also been translated to Chinese: http://faynya.lofter.com/post/1f7eb72c_12e8e291b

Kurogane is bored.

Kurogane has _been_ bored for over a week now. He has nothing to do while he’s trapped in this room but replay memories: their frantic return to the palace in the Kingdom of Clow, each kaleidoscopic sight and sound a whirlwind of panic and pain; the final moments of their fight against Fei Wong Reed, the ear-splitting screech of shattered glass and Fei Wong Reed’s choked voice as Kurogane finally cleaved in two the monster who murdered his mother; and _pain_ , pure and simple, coursing through Kurogane’s body as he’s hit with spells and tears off his mangled prosthesis, and through his _mind_ , echoing through his chest as he watches one Syaoran stab the other and stands by helpless as the clone dies. Kurogane has replayed the memories so many times they’re surely burned into the backs of his eyelids forever.

Kurogane has been bored for over a week, and he has been _alone_ for just as long.

That isn’t entirely true. He has had company periodically. The princess’s family has checked in on him occasionally, and he was able to see his traveling companions briefly after the kids woke up. It was a teary-eyed, touchy-feely reunion that made Kurogane want to go back to being alone again (or so he tells himself). Sakura was crying when she hugged Syaoran, refusing to let him go while Syaoran turned red and stammered her name; Fai was _not_ crying when he scooped _both_ of them up into his arms, but his embrace was just as firm as Sakura’s. Fai dragged Kurogane down into the group hug as well, and although Kurogane scoffed and rolled his eyes, he couldn’t deny that something about the scene just felt _right_. It felt like everything was finally proven to be worth it, all the pain and suffering of a lifetime given reason in that single moment.

The kids, the mage, even the manjû… They’re Kurogane’s family now. He missed them.

He especially missed Fai.

Kurogane misses Fai even now, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it. He sits alone in his room, too tired to read but too awake to sleep. He’s left to replay memories, feel the cool breeze of the night air, and run his fingers over the space his torn-off prosthesis left. He would _like_ to say that _that’s_ why he misses Fai; he’s just bored. After all, the mage is very good at keeping him entertained. If Fai were with him tonight, Kurogane wouldn’t be _able_ to spend his time thinking because Fai is never quiet long enough for Kurogane to hear his own thoughts. If Fai were with him, Kurogane wouldn’t be bored.

That’s not why he misses Fai though.

It’s barely been a week since he was last with Fai, but it feels like it has been far longer. Kurogane wants to hear Fai’s light, affectionate voice call him some stupid nickname. He wants to snap at Fai, both because that’s what he’s supposed to do and because he knows it will make Fai laugh. Fai has never shied away from Kurogane’s anger; he seems to revel in it instead, and Kurogane misses the way Fai takes pleasure in pestering him until Kurogane wants to strangle him. He misses Fai’s touch, too, even lighter than his voice, and the brilliant blue and gold of Fai’s eyes, always so warm.

Kurogane misses Fai because of who Fai _is_.

Fai is his friend. Fai is his _partner_ , in more ways than one, and now that they have been together for so long it’s strange to not have Fai by his side. The bed, especially, feels cold and empty without Fai in it. It’s far too big; even _Kurogane_ can stretch out completely and have a solid two feet of space left in any direction. It’s a _nice_ bed, soft and cushioned with so many pillows that Kurogane wonders if Sakura’s family isn’t playing a prank on him, because surely _no one_ sleeps with ten pillows. But that only _adds_ to the problem. Kurogane isn’t _designed_ for such extravagance. The sheer comfort is beginning to set Kurogane’s teeth on edge.

Maybe he would be less tense with Fai here.

There’s no use wondering that, though, because Fai _isn’t_ here. Kurogane lies on his back in the bed, alone, slowly sinking deeper into both the mattress and his own thoughts. He wonders what the others are doing right now. Syaoran and Sakura are probably together. Sakura was still holding tightly to Syaoran when Kurogane left, and Kurogane doubts _anyone_ would be able to get her separated from him. Mokona, too, is probably with either the kids or Fai.

Kurogane wonders where Fai is.

He sits up with a sigh and glances toward the door. He could… just leave, couldn’t he? It’s not as if the door is _locked_. He isn’t in _prison_. The princess’s family can’t _keep_ him here. He stares at the door until his feet move without his permission to take him to it. He can walk up and down the halls if nothing else. Maybe he’ll see if he can find the mage. It would give him something to do.

Kurogane finds the mage immediately.

“Ow,” Fai laughs as Kurogane opens the door and walks face first into him. Fai rubs his forehead where Kurogane’s chin connected with it and grins up at him. “Evening, Kuro-sama. Are you trying to sneak out?”

Kurogane’s chin smarts. He focuses on the stinging sensation rather than the way his heart leaps into his mouth at the sight of Fai. “Are _you_ trying to sneak _in_?” he returns.

“Yep,” Fai agrees amiably, ducking beneath Kurogane’s arm to slip into the room. He makes his way over to the bed and flops heavily onto it, sprawling out among the mass of pillows with a contented sigh. “I thought you might be lonely.”

“I wasn’t,” Kurogane complains, even though he _was_. He closes the door and returns to sit on the bed. “I don’t get why _you_ get to run around as you please while _I’m_ stuck in here.”

“It’s because _someone_ panicked and ripped off his prosthesis when we were fighting Fei Wong Reed.” Fai folds his fingers together behind his head and lifts his foot to jab lightly at Kurogane’s shoulder.

“I didn’t _panic_ ,” Kurogane protests, knocking Fai’s foot away. “It was just slowing me down. It’s not like _you_ stayed calm either.”

Fai tilts his head; his smile grows. “Lies,” he purrs, his gaze half-lidded and pleased. “I’m _always_ calm.”

“Yeah,” Kurogane snorts, “okay. Because you were _so_ calm when people showed up to help. You definitely _didn’t_ scream at them to save the kid and the princess and me. You were _very_ calm.”

“I wasn’t _screaming_.” Fai frowns and kicks at Kurogane’s shoulder again, harder this time, and Kurogane grabs his ankle with a growl that makes the grin return to Fai’s face immediately. Fai attempts another kick; Kurogane holds him tight. Fai snatches up one of the many pillows and whacks Kurogane over the top of the head with so much force that Kurogane gives a startled, muffled sound of complaint and drops Fai’s ankle. He grabs the pillow instead, wrenching it from Fai’s hand and chucking it back at his face as hard as possible. Fai laughs again and peeks up from beneath it. “You’re so _violent_ ,” Fai scolds, but Kurogane can hear the smile in his voice.

“You started it,” Kurogane grumbles.

 “See? _This_ is why you’re still stuck in your room,” Fai admonishes. He props the pillow back behind his head again. “You never give your body a chance to rest.”

“Shut up,” Kurogane growls.

The fond turn of Fai’s lips goes taunting. He sits up and leans in close. “Make me,” he suggests, his gaze flickering from Kurogane’s narrowed eyes to his lips and back.

It’s _obviously_ bait.

Kurogane takes it anyway.

Kurogane’s lips close over Fai’s before Fai can take another breath. His hand fits between Fai’s shoulder blades to pull him in even closer. Fai stiffens at his touch, his mouth half-open in surprise—then he laughs, low and delighted, a sound that Kurogane swallows down as he draws it into a softer noise, one that is breathless and higher. Fai eases in against him; his slender fingers touch Kurogane’s cheek and sweep along his jaw, and when Kurogane pulls away, Fai’s touch remains soft, his eyes remain closed, and his breathing remains uneven.

Then Fai drops his hand and opens his eyes. “I can’t believe that actually _worked_!” he laughs, falling back against the pillows and touching his fingertips to his lips as he grins.

Kurogane scowls; his face burns. “Shut _up_.”

Fai doesn’t say it this time. He merely gazes up at Kurogane through half-lidded eyes, his smile soft and inviting, and Kurogane listens to the unspoken taunt.

Kurogane leans down to kiss the pleased part of Fai’s lips again, feeling him sigh against him. Fai’s breathing catches, his lashes flutter shut, and his mouth opens wider to urge Kurogane in closer. Kurogane licks into it, over teeth that are no longer vampire sharp and into warmth that no longer tastes of copper and iron but of sunlight and _Fai_. Kurogane weights a hand against the crest of Fai’s hip, thumb sweeping low to dip just beneath Fai’s waistband as his fingers spread wide under the folds of Fai’s shirt, the faintly lined muscles of Fai’s stomach flexing hard with rising tension.

Fai’s arms go around Kurogane’s shoulder as he arches his back to press himself up into Kurogane’s touch. His fingers shift through the short strands of Kurogane’s hair, and his nails try not to scratch. The breathless sound Fai makes when Kurogane bears down over him is halfway between a moan and a whine, and Kurogane tastes it rush through his body as surely as he tastes Fai himself. Fai’s head falls back; Kurogane takes the chance to kiss Fai’s jaw and the crook of his neck, lips soft but teeth rough on his throat where Fai’s pulse quickens in response.

“Kuro-tan—” Fai breathes. He shivers as Kurogane’s teeth catch on his sensitive skin. Kurogane gives a low hum of acknowledgement, as much in response to the way Fai’s breathing has gone stuttered and spine stiff as to his words. “I—” Fai’s throat works beneath Kurogane’s mouth, and Kurogane bites at the pulse-point of his neck until Fai gasps softly and jolts, fingers tightening in Kurogane’s hair. “Do—do you—?”

Kurogane kisses the darkening bruise left from his teeth and lifts his head. Fai looks at him questioningly, mismatched eyes bright and kiss-swollen lips parted in uncertainty. His pale skin has flushed deeper, pink tinting his nose and cheeks, and Kurogane _knows_ Fai after all this time. He recognizes that it’s _want_ that colors his face and falters his breath.

It’s want, too, that makes Fai pause, makes the question he tried to ask get stuck in his throat, because want—of _anything_ , be it Kurogane’s body _or_ his heart—was off-limits to Fai for so long.

“Yeah,” Kurogane says, and Fai’s eyes soften, the uncertainty on his lips melting into a smile. He pulls Kurogane back into an open-mouthed kiss, far greedier now that he has been given permission, and his hands drop to Kurogane’s sides to tug up the fabric of his shirt. Kurogane’s grip tightens on Fai’s hip as Fai rocks up against him, and he kisses the corner of Fai’s lips, where Fai’s mouth is slack and surrendering. Kurogane slips his hand up beneath Fai’s shirt, and Fai eases out from under him and sits up so he can pull his shirt off. The fabric gets caught in Fai’s hair; he has to shake his head to free it, and it would be so stereotypically sexy that Kurogane would laugh if he weren’t too busy tracing the lines of Fai’s slender body, gaze running over his hips and his chest and his collarbones.

Fai’s clothes have never left much to the imagination, but the reality is still better.

Kurogane’s thoughts are cut off when Fai kisses him again, long and hard. “Come on,” Fai murmurs breathlessly against his lips. “You can appreciate me all you want _later_.” Kurogane would normally roll his eyes at Fai’s impatience, but Fai _does_ have a point. It takes him a moment to fumble with his shirt; he’s not the best at taking it off with only one arm under normal circumstances, _least_ of all when he wants to have it off of him immediately so he can back to touching Fai.

When Kurogane finally gets his shirt off, Fai is staring at him.

That isn’t an unexpected reaction. Fai stares at him even when Kurogane is fully clothed, and he has grown increasingly blatant and unabashed about it over time. But Fai isn’t staring at him with his usual coy smile. Neither is he staring at him with the appreciation with which Kurogane looked at _him_. The color on Fai’s cheeks has left, and his gaze darts across Kurogane’s torso in no particular pattern without once returning to Kurogane’s face. “You—” Fai breathes, nothing sensual left in the sound.

Then Kurogane realizes exactly what Fai is looking at.

“You have so many _scars_.”

Fai’s voice breaks on the last word. His fingers are trembling when he reaches out to touch the burst of raw tissue on Kurogane’s side. It’s as if the sight of Kurogane’s scars causes Fai the same pain of each old wound inflicted again. “I didn’t know—” Fai swallows hard; his inhale is sharp. “How are you even _alive_?”

“ _Stop_ —” Kurogane grabs Fai’s hand and jerks it back, but Fai barely reacts. Fai’s eyes are wide, his brows upturned, and his gaze has gone distant, fixed on the massive scar he was touching moments ago, the reminder of Ashura’s attack that nearly cost Kurogane his life. Kurogane wants to kiss Fai again, wants to go _back_ to kissing, but he doesn’t want to while Fai is like _this_.

“You—what did I—” Fai is spiraling. Kurogane can see it, pain and fear and _guilt_ rising as tears in his eyes, and he can _hear_ it, splintered through his voice. Fai blinks; the tears spill over his cheeks, but Kurogane doesn’t think he even realizes he’s crying. “What did I _do_ , I-I—”

“It wasn’t _you_ ,” Kurogane cuts in, but Fai isn’t listening.

“Ou—I didn’t—I didn’t know he hurt you that _badly_.” Fai’s gaze darts higher, to where angry lines of fresh scars poke out from beneath bandages. “And your shoulder too, and—”

“ _Stop it_ ,” Kurogane growls again. Fai flinches back from the harshness in his voice, and he finally meets Kurogane’s eyes, his own gaze unfocused. “Quit feeling guilty. You didn’t do anything to feel guilty _about_.”

“But your scars… They’re from _me_ , they’re—”

“They’re not from _you_. Don’t be so dramatic. _Listen_ to me already.” Kurogane shoves Fai’s hand toward his own chest and drops it. “Yeah, I have scars. I’ve _always_ had scars. That’s just a fact of life for me. I live, I get more. I don’t _care_ about them. You shouldn’t either.”

“Even if they’re my fault?” Fai’s voice is small. His hands curl into fists against his chest, and he drops his head to stare at the sheets of the bed. His shoulders jump slightly as he says, “You have so _many_. If—”

“There is no ‘ _if_ ,’” Kurogane interrupts. “You’re going to say that if not for you, I wouldn’t have them. If that king’s attack had hit me differently, if we hadn’t ended up in Nihon after I cut off my arm, I’d be dead. Am I right?” Fai nods, the movement tiny and sharp. “Fine. You’re right. But _if_ I had done nothing, _you_ would be dead for sure.”

Fai glances up at Kurogane through tear-slicked lashes. He wants to say something—wants to argue, probably—but the pain kills the words before they reach his lips. Fai is tracking the paths of a million impossibilities—if, if, _if_ —with regret scarring his mind as clearly as it scars Kurogane’s body. Telling Fai not to feel bad won’t help, because Fai is determined to follow all those hypotheticals off a cliff.

Kurogane will catch him.

He always does.

Fai’s fingers shake when Kurogane takes them in his, unfurling them from their tight grip, and guides them to the large scar on his side. Fai flinches when Kurogane touches his fingertips to the wound, his hand going stiff as if it’s being held to a hot iron.

“My father used to tell me that scars were proof you survived something—proof you’re a fighter,” Kurogane says quietly. Fai keeps his gaze glued to Kurogane’s face, seeking solace and confirmation that it’s not his _fault_ in Kurogane’s eyes. “That king of yours didn’t kill me. No one did. I’m okay. My scars are proof of that.”

Kurogane pulls Fai’s hand up to his shoulder and presses it there. “I _like_ this one,” he admits. Fai’s eyes widen slightly, searching and torn, like he can’t decide if Kurogane has gone insane or is lying but knows it _must_ be one of the two. “It’s not just proof that _I_ lived. It’s proof _you_ did too. Losing my arm was a small price to pay to keep you with me.”

Kurogane releases Fai’s hand, but Fai doesn’t pull it away. His fingers stay loosely closed over Kurogane’s wrist as Kurogane turns his palms up to bare the short lines that slice through his skin. Fai glances down in confusion when his fingers brush over the horizontal scars, the memories of a connection between them that no longer exists. He closes his eyes, and another tear runs down his cheek, skipping over his nose to fall onto Kurogane’s wrist.

“These too,” Kurogane says. Fai runs his fingers over the raised edges of the white lines. “I’m grateful for them. Because without them, you wouldn’t be here.” Fai nods. He opens his eyes and looks searchingly back at Kurogane, and Kurogane returns his gaze evenly. “I don’t hate my scars. I don’t regret them.”

“You really don’t regret _any_ of them?” Fai asks, his voice soft and hesitant, fingers stilling on Kurogane’s wrist.

“Well,” Kurogane considers. “I regret a couple.” Fai’s eyes go wide and worried, and his grip tightens around Kurogane’s arm. “Like this one.” Kurogane pulls his hand free and points to a small, faded scar on his collarbone. Fai blinks down then back up in confusion at the unfamiliar sight. “I got that one by falling out of a tree when I was 7. My parents always warned me that I would one day. Guess they were right.” Kurogane sighs, and Fai can’t help but smile, even with tears shining wet on his skin. “And this one?” Kurogane touches another little, pale scar on his stomach. “Did the exact same god damn thing a year later.”

Fai’s laugh is short and hiccup-y. “Honestly,” he scolds, but he’s unable to keep the fondness and relief from his voice. “I _do_ wonder how you’re alive sometimes.”

Kurogane shrugs. “I’m pretty indestructible.”

Fai gives another laugh, the sound coming more easily this time, and he reaches up to cup Kurogane’s cheek in his palm. His eyes are red-rimmed and weary, but the pain in them has been replaced by pure affection. Fai leans in to kiss him, his other hand resting lightly on Kurogane’s chest. His lips still taste of salt, but they taste of his smile, too, warm and honest. When they part once more, Kurogane doesn’t allow himself to be drawn back in, even though he _wants_ to. He kisses Fai slowly instead, each motion measured, and he doesn’t let Fai coax him into more no matter how badly they both want it, because neither of them wants it like this.

Kurogane can’t keep the reluctance from his voice when he breaks away. “I guess I’m not as healed as I thought I was.” It’s an excuse; they both know it. Fai can surely feel the rapid, betraying heartbeat beneath his palm. “I should probably rest instead.”

“ _That’s_ why you’re not supposed to be up wandering the halls yet,” Fai sighs, the sound a mixture of similar reluctance and acceptance. His fingers curl against Kurogane’s chest, and he glances toward the door. “I’ll let you sleep,” he says, even though he makes no effort to leave.

Kurogane suspects Fai missed _him_ too.

“You’re not going to stay?” Kurogane asks. Fai looks back at him and tilts his head in confusion. “I thought you were sneaking in to keep me company in case I was lonely.”

Fai’s smile is pure. “And _are_ you lonely?” he wonders, but he kisses Kurogane rather than let him respond. He’s still smiling, even when he falls back onto the mass of pillows and lifts a brow in amusement.

“The bed is too big,” Kurogane complains rather than admit that yes, he _was_. “It’s stupid for just one person to sleep in it.”

Fai’s smile becomes laughter, soft and affectionate. “I’ll do my best to take up as much space as possible then.” He extends his arms, and Kurogane allows Fai to pull him down into his arms.

Fai doesn’t take up space; he stays as close as possible to Kurogane, holding him tightly even as the rest of him eases into comfort. Kurogane relaxes too; the tension in him leaves along with the loneliness, as if Fai’s presence alone is chasing it away. Fai’s smile touches the top of his head as Kurogane’s arm comes to rest over Fai’s waist, and Kurogane closes his eyes, finally finding some peace with the rhythmic pulse beneath his cheek.

“Sorry for freaking out on you,” Fai murmurs into his hair. His fingers play over the edges of the scar on Kurogane’s side, but his gentle touch no longer feels stiff and guilt-ridden. “I _guess_ I’m not always calm after all.”

“It’s fine,” Kurogane says without opening his eyes, because it _is_. Fai doesn’t need to apologize—not for his reaction to Kurogane’s scars, not for ruining the mood, not for anything at all. Fai has nothing to apologize for; he never has. Kurogane has never wanted anything more than to have Fai just like this: safe, warm, and happy by his side. Sex would be nice, but Kurogane doesn’t _need_ it, not like he needs Fai secure in his protective embrace.

Curled up in Fai’s arms, listening to his calm heartbeat, the bed doesn’t feel too big anymore.

The memories are silent.

**Author's Note:**

> based on this fanart by Cat: https://twitter.com/Catiacchi/status/1111667144721420288
> 
> title taken from "Someone New" by Hozier. thanks as always to my darling beta Freddie. I'll send you some sea salt chocolate cake in the mail, okay?


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